


Thirteen Moons

by sof_gigante



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hunter!Din Djarin, M/M, Monsters, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, Werewolf AU, Werewolf!Cobb Vanth, abuse of latin, dark fantasy AU, moodboard, too much damn worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29628147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sof_gigante/pseuds/sof_gigante
Summary: "The only thing you need to know is that no one, and I mean no one, is to come in or out of that cell until sunrise."Din Djarin is the best  hunter in the Venatoribus Monstrum, an ancient order of monster slayers. When he's assigned to guard Prince Cobb Vanth--one of his fellow hunters--as he struggles to break his werewolf curse, Din will find himself tested in every way.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23
Collections: DinCobb Valentine's Bingo 2021





	Thirteen Moons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GuenVanHelsing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuenVanHelsing/gifts).



> Thanks so much to GuenVanHelsing and everyone at the TIOOIW: DinCobb Discord for their help brainstorming and cheerleading this fic. Also, special thanks to my spouse, who I wrangled into beta-ing this with one hour to go until the Bingo deadline.
> 
> Claiming bingo squares bodyguard AU, soulmate AU, enemies to lovers, royalty AU, fantasy AU

[ ](https://postimg.cc/G40Mp34Z)

A frosty January moon peered at Din through the castle’s high window, mocking him with her fullness. As he made his way towards the downwards stairs, the greatest hunters of the Venatoribus Monstrum scowled down at him from their oil portraits. They knew, as well as Din did, that a Venandi Luna did not spend a full moon inside headquarters—they spent it out in the wild, tracking and disposing of the horrors that haunted the land.

He knew this must be a punishment of some kind, no matter what Master Karga had told him to the contrary. He’d been getting too ambitious, going farther afield, stalking larger and more dangerous prey on his own. Din knew he could handle it, but the Council of Seven thought differently. Din was too valuable an asset, and they couldn’t afford to lose him on some foolhardy mission. So, they’d put him on babysitting detail in the castle.

Din stomped his way down to the dungeons, hard enough to make the silver buckles and chains on his coat jingle. He pulled up the wolf-fur collar, as much to fight the winter chill as to show off the sleek, mottled fur.

Master Karga was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs by the open dungeon door. He had two lit lanterns in his hands, and handed one to Din.

“Is it really necessary for you to wear that coat, Journa Djarin?” Master Karga shot Din a disgusted look.

“It’s my werewolf-hunting jacket,” Din said simply, as if it explained everything.

“You’re not hunting anything tonight,” Master Karga snapped. “You’re guarding.”

“A werewolf.” The word rolled sourly off of his tongue.

“He’s not a true werewolf.” Karga sighed, motioning for Din to follow him deeper into the dungeon. “He’s a Luna Lupus; cursed, not bitten.”

“Same damned thing. He turns into a monster every full moon, doesn’t he?”

“Only if the moonlight touches him. Which is why we guard him in the deepest part of the castle.”

“Good. It’ll make it harder for him to escape when the frenzy hits him.”

Master Karga stopped, forcing Din to stop as well. He turned and fixed Din with a glare. “Look. I know you’re not happy with this assignment, but we need to get something straight before you walk in there. Journa Vanth is a decorated member of the Venatoribus Monstrum. He’s been one of us for nearly two decades, which is almost as long as you have been. Your job is to _protect_ him.”

Din was grateful that his full, silver face mask hid the heat rising to his cheeks. Master Karga rarely needed to raise his voice, but when he did, he could cow even the most hardened members of the order.

“Protect him from what?” Din asked, smoothing his tone as unspoken apology.

“If he feels like it, he can explain it to you,” Karga said. He continued down the hall, and down another flight of stairs as Din followed. “The only thing you need to know is that no one, and I mean _no one_ , is to come in or out of that cell until sunrise. Not even if the Venatrix Magna herself knocks at the door. Do I make myself clear?”

“As glass. Is he in his cell already?”

“Yes. He comes here voluntarily, of his own free will. He should have everything he needs.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way, which led them down yet another short flight of stairs. They were so deep in the mountain that the January chill couldn’t reach them, and Din’s skin began to prickle uncomfortably under his thick coat and mask.

Master Karga unlocked a heavy, iron door with a silver-plated key hung from a silver hoop. Din raised an eyebrow that Karga couldn’t see.

“I thought you said that my werewolf-hunting coat was unnecessary.”

Karga had the grace to look abashed. “It’s just protocol. He understands.”

“I bet he does.”

The door swung open onto a large cell that was divided in half by thick, iron bars. On one side—Din’s side—was a chair, a small table, a lit lantern, and a lidded chamber pot. On the other side of the bars there was even less in the way of furnishings—just a bed of straw and a moth-eaten tapestry crumpled on the floor.

Leaning against the wall, close to the bars, was a tall, lithe man. He wore the brown leather and burgundy linens of the Venandi Solis—the daytime hunters—of the Venatoribus Monstrum, and the scarlet scarf tied around his neck spoke to his rank as a Marshal. Din would’ve been more impressed, had he not been behind bars.

The man looked up, and the smile that was forming on his lips froze when his eyes landed on Din. With his face visible, Din could make a quick read of him. He was about Din’s own age—years of living a hunter’s life written in the thin lines and pale scars on his face. He thought himself attractive, with silvered hair cropped into short spikes, and a lean face peppered with the right amount of rough stubble. He immediately disliked Din, with that scowl forming on his lips.

That suited Din just fine.

“Really, Master Karga?” the man protested, pointing at Din as if he wasn’t even there. “You’ve got one of the Council’s Personatus guarding me now?”

Din bristled, squaring his shoulders. “I am not a faceless one. I speak with my own voice.”

Master Karga stepped forward. “He’s right. The mask is…a personal choice of his. He’s a Journa, same as you.”

The wolf-man squinted at Din, visibly measuring him up. “You’re a Venandi Lupus, aren’t you? Werewolf killer.”

“Venandi Luna. I kill all manner of night creatures.”

“Like werewolves.”

“Yes. I’ve killed many werewolves.”

“As you’ve killed many trolls, goblins, and dragons yourself, Journa Vanth,” Master Karga said. “We all have our orders. Right now, Journa Djarin’s orders are to be your guard for the night.”

“Wonderful,” Journa Vanth said sourly. “I’m sure tonight is going to go real smooth.”

“It will be if you keep away from the bars and stay silent, _wolf_.” Din replied.

“Master Karga, there’s got to be someone else than this masked _freak_!”

“Children!” Master Karga snapped. Din’s stomach knotted as he fixed them both with icy glares, first Vanth, then Din. He pointed to the wall across from the cell, and Din noticed the large hourglass sitting in a caged alcove. Karga silently unlocked the door, and turned the hourglass. Tiny granules of sand slowly began to fill the lower chamber.

“This will tell you when the night is over.” Master Karga closed and locked the small door as he spoke. “You are to open neither of the doors—to the cell or the cage, for any reason. If this castle is attacked, you keep the doors locked. If Journa Vanth stops breathing, you keep the doors locked. If you develop stigmata, you—”

“Keep the doors locked.” Both Din and Journa Vanth spoke in unison. It would’ve made Din smile if his stomach wasn’t knotted so tightly.

“The next thirteen full moons are critical. They will also be challenging beyond anything the Order’s known before. Our enemies gather, and their saber-tips are pointed right at him.” Master Karga pointed at Vanth before turning his attention to Din. “It’s why I picked you for this task, Journa Djarin. Out of all of my Venandi, I trust you to have the fortitude and loyalty to keep Journa Vanth safe, whatever your personal feelings towards wolves may be.”

Din swallowed hard, hot shame and warm pride mingling uncomfortably in his belly. “I understand, Master Karga.”

Karga clapped Din’s shoulder with one hand. “Thank you, son. I know you won’t let me down.” Karga stepped to the cage where Vanth watched with wary eyes, and clasped both his hands in his. “We will get your through this, my boy. I promise. Just twelve moons to go. You can do it.”

Vanth nodded, a flash of vulnerability smoothing his features as he leaned into Master Karga. He was afraid of something—something big enough that he was hiding in the deepest dungeon under such strict guard.

Master Karga held out the silver key ring to Din, who took it in his gloved hand. “He’s in your charge until dawn.”

Din nodded. He ushered Master Karga out, and locked the door behind him. He studied the three silver keys as he listened to his disappearing footfalls, wondering exactly what it was he’d been roped into. Behind him, he could hear Journa Vanth shuffling in his cell, then give a deep sigh.

“Gonna be a long night, isn’t it?” Vanth grumbled.

“What happened to your last guard?” Din asked, turning as he pocketed the keys.

“Starting with the friendly questions, aren’t you?”

“I’m not your friend. I’m your guard.”

“Yeah, well, Journa Dune was my friend as well as my guard.”

Din’s stomach tightened. Journa Cara Dune had been another Venandi Luna. Her territory had been the northern forests, where Din hunted in the western mountains. He may not have fought alongside her, but whenever a hunter fell in battle, the entire order mourned.

“I’m sorry,” Din said slowly. “She was a good hunter.”

“That she was, and a decent person, too.”

Din couldn’t help but feel that that was a jab at him.

“Since we’re starting off in the deep end, what’s up with your mask?” Vanth threaded his arms through the bars and leaned forward.

“I told you to stay away from the bars,” Din snapped. He was absolutely deflecting the question.

Vanth rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to try to escape.”

“Until the frenzy hits.”

Vanth motioned to the hourglass. “I’m not going to frenzy for a few hours yet. I’m still tame as a puppy.” He cocked his head, batting his eyelids at Din.

It was meant to look innocent. For some reason it just made Din’s face heat, his breath hitch. No. He couldn’t even let himself come close to feeling anything like _that_.

“Look. I need you to understand, _mongrel_ , you’re not in charge here. I am.” Din stepped forward slowly, putting every ounce of intimidation he could into his walk. “I hold the keys to your cage. I’m the one guarding you.”

He fully expected Vanth to shrink back, muttering apologies. Maybe even fall into stony silence. What he hadn’t expected, though, was for Vanth to actually start laughing.

“Oh, partner, you are going to have a real tough time with this job if you like to be in control.” Cobb wrapped his long fingers around the bars and pressed his face against them with a maddening smirk. “You’re not in charge of squat. Neither am I. We are at the mercy of the moon tonight. In a few hours, when I’m clawing at this cage and begging for you to let me out, you’ll understand what this job’s really about.”

Din’s stomach knotted uncomfortably.

“I’ve been doing this for eighteen years,” Vanth continued, “and I’ve had 31 different guards. The ones that weren’t killed on the hunt either had to go on sabbatical, or just up and quit the order after guarding me. This job drives everyone mad.” He slid away from the bars, letting his fingers linger until they fell away. “You’re going to be the one begging to be let out well before sunrise.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Din knew he’d be just fine. He’d survived horrors unspeakable since he was a child. He’d walked in nightmares and slain creatures made of pure darkness. There was only one thing in the world that Din was afraid of, and it definitely wasn’t Journa Vanth and his Luna Lupus curse.

He settled into the chair, drawing his sword and placing it on the table. Vanth rolled his eyes, and settled on the floor against the wall, facing Din. They sat in long, awkward silence, listening only to the distant drip of water in the catacombs beyond the dungeons.

Slow hours passed, Vanth nodding off at some point. Din dropped into a hunter’s meditation, resting his body and sharpening his mind. He had to be ready.

At some point, Vanth began to twitch in his sleep. The sound of his whimpers pulled Din from his trance, his senses alert. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, though logically he knew it would not be much use to him in this situation. Vanth’s spasms became more violent, almost seizures as he toppled to the ground.

“Journa Vanth?” Din called, though he did not expect a response. “Can you hear me?”

Vanth’s eyes opened, revealing only the whites of his eyes. He gave out a rough snarl, spittle flying from his curled lips.

The frenzy was starting.

Din’s adrenaline surged red, his muscles tensed. He was ready to fight. To kill—

No. His job was to watch.

Vanth flipped onto his hands and knees, then pushed himself up to standing with remarkable agility. He sniffed the air, licked his lips, and fixed Din with a predatory stare that made Din’s blood run cold.

“Not a puppy anymore, Djarin,” Vanth chuckled. His eyes glowed yellow as moonlight, and he bared his teeth in a sneer. “It’s midnight. Time to let me out.”

Din didn’t bother responding. He simply tightened his grip on his sword.

“You’re going to let me out of here. You need to.” Vanth pressed his hands against the bars. “It doesn’t matter how deeply you bury me, I can still hear the moon singing to me. She’s in my veins, my muscles, my bones. I have to, have to…”

Vanth threw his head back and let out a howl. In the small space, the sound echoed painfully, making Din wince. He fought the urge to cover his ears, even as Vanth did it again and again and again.

“Will you stop that?” Din finally rasped.

“Make me!” Vanth gave him a mocking smile. “Come here and show me what a big, tough hunter you are!” He side-trotted along the length of the bars, looking all the world like a caged wolf. “What are you afraid of? You’re dressed in silver from head to foot! I can’t hurt you.”

Din breathed heavily through his nose. He’d never encountered a Luna Lupus when they’d been denied access to the full moon. He’d done his research, of course, studied the madness that came over them. He had just no idea how…directed it would be. He’d figure Vanth would pace and mutter in his cage—not spend his energies trying to taunt and cajole Din into letting him out.

“Why do you resist the moon, Vanth?” Din asked. Maybe if he could keep him talking, it would help steady him.

Vanth laughed hollowly. “Because it’s what good little princes do. They leave their castles, learn to hunt, and let the scary men lock them up once a month because being a wolf is bad bad bad!” He ran at the wall, and at the last minute leapt. He executed a perfect turn-jump, his momentum almost launching him across the cell. “Did Master Karga tell you that, you silver-faced freak? I’m the crown prince of Tatonia. You should be bowing to me.”

Prince? Din had heard rumors, of course, that the heir to the neighboring kingdom’s throne was a member of the Venatoribus Monstrum, but it was only whispers.

“Is that what happens to all your past guards, then? You have them removed once they know your secret?” Din asked.

Vanth snorted. “Please. I don’t make people ‘disappear.’ I’m not my father.” He looked around his cage. “This is all his doing, you know that? For eighteen years I’ve spent every full moon in this cell so I can break this curse. 228 cycles to match the 228 wolves he massacred to save my pregnant mother’s life.” Vanth fixed Din with a calculating look. “How many wolves have you killed, Djarin? What price did their lives buy you, beyond your fine coat?”

“They bought safety and peace for the villagers in the mountains,” Din said. “I have no remorse for killing mosters.”

“Wolves killed someone you loved, didn’t they?”

Din froze, his heart in his throat.

“I can smell it on you. The fear.”

“I have no fear of you,” Din gritted out.

“You don’t think you do. You’ve convinced yourself, with your little silver trinkets and your trophy coat. You even think you can hide it behind that hideous mask. You can’t mask your scent from me, though. You smell like a child lost in the woods, stained in your parent’s lifeblood.”

Din jerked to his feet, bile rising in his throat.

“You smell…delicious.” Vanth pressed himself against the bars and ran his tongue over his teeth obscenely. “As sweet as your parents tasted, I’m sure.”

“Enough!” Din lunged at Vanth, sword aimed at his chest through the bars.

Quick as mercury, Vanth dodged to the side. Before Din could recover, Cobb had his wrist in both hands, jerking him forward against the bars. Din’s head connected with a sickening crack, the mask providing little armor. Stars swam in front of his eyes. Pain loosened his grip on his sword, sending it clattering to ground inside Vanth’s cell. He tried to yank himself loose, but Vanth held him fast.

“You are so easy to manipulate!” Vanth giggled manically. “I just took a guess! I have no idea what people taste like!” He pulled Din’s arm against the bars, putting pressure on Din’s extended elbow joint. “Now, be a good boy and unlock this cage before I break your arm.”

Despite his pain, Din’s mind was already calculating. He reached his free hand slowly into the coat pocket that held the keys, making sure that he jingled them loudly so Vanth could hear.

“That’s good,” Vanth encouraged. “Don’t try anything funny.”

Din carefully threaded the keys through his fingers, clenching the silver ring in his fist. He slowly pulled his hand from the coat pocket—and stabbed a straight punch into Vanth’s face.

It wasn’t very hard, but it didn’t have to be, not with the silver keys in his grasp. Vanth howled as they jabbed into his cheek and against his nose, and Din caught a whiff of searing flesh. Vanth’s grip on Din immediately loosened, and Din jerked his arm free. While Vanth was distracted by his pain, Din dropped to the ground and reached between the bars to rescue his sword from inside the cell. He managed to pull it out just as Vanth noticed what was going on, and he rolled out of reach a split second before Vanth tried to grab him again.

“You burned me, you fucking freak!” Vanth yelled, banging his hand on the bars. Angry crimson welts were scorched into his skin, marring his otherwise handsome face.

“You tried to break my elbow, mongrel!” Din cried back. His arm was still throbbing, but his pride smarted more. He’d let Vanth get under his skin, and gotten damn sloppy. Stupid, rookie mistake.

“My father is going to be furious when he finds out what you’ve done to me!” Vanth snarled. “He’ll have you hanged!”

“If your father gave a rat’s ass about you, you wouldn’t be locked in this cage three hundred miles from home, would you?”

Vanth recoiled as if physically struck. His expression slackened from fury to disbelief, and his arms immediately wrapped around himself protectively.

Din struggled to his feet. He looked down at Vanth, still crouching on the ground. He almost felt bad for what he’d said. Almost.

“Next time you think about trying to escape, you remember those marks on your face.” Din leaned forward, “I’m in control here, _wolf_.”

He walked back to his chair and sat down again. He hoped Vanth couldn’t notice how badly he was shaking. It wasn’t just the fight that had Din jarred. It was something else, written in the burns across Vanth’s face.

_The key to your salvation, Hunter, is etched in the wolf’s flesh. Slay that wolf, and your curse is broken._

Vanth looked up at Din, hate burning in his golden, glowing eyes. The shape of the smallest key on the ring was perfectly burned into his cheek.

Din knew, with every inch of his being. Vanth was the one he had to kill—and he was sworn to protect him.


End file.
